


Finally Got It Right

by jacksonstilinskis



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, just my boys being hot but also soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-08 23:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18904543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacksonstilinskis/pseuds/jacksonstilinskis
Summary: Jackson hates McCall and Stilinski.Actually, that’s not true at all, if he’s being honest with himself. He hates them, or pretends to, because it’s easier than admitting that he envies what they have.Written forStackson Week.





	Finally Got It Right

Jackson hates McCall and Stilinski.

Actually, that’s not true at all, if he’s being honest with himself. He hates them, or pretends to, because it’s easier than admitting that he envies what they have.

He envies the way they can have an entire conversation without words, relaying what they need to say with gestures and facial expressions and understanding the other without missing a beat. He envies the way one kiss from McCall can calm Stilinski’s racing heart. He envies the way they complement one another so perfectly, like they were literally made for each other. The way they’re so fucking comfortable with each other, the way they practically melt into one and radiate happiness and contentment every single time they’re together. 

It takes awhile for Jackson to be able to admit to himself that he wants that. Once he does, though, it’s all he can think about; he wants that constant reassurance, to be so intimately familiar with someone that they know what he needs before he even figures it out himself. He wants to be loved, to be taken care of, by someone he trusts implicitly.

He makes a pass at Danny one day while they’re alone in his bedroom, because he figures that’s the obvious solution. Stilinski and McCall were best friends first, right? It makes sense. 

Danny kisses him back for a beat, indulging him, but then he pulls away and pats Jackson’s shoulder. “I love you, man, you know that, but this is...misguided. You’re projecting your feelings onto me, but this isn’t what you want,” he says. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jackson asks, defensive, because it seems like a plausible idea to him. Danny knows him better than anyone. They’re no Stilinski and McCall, he’s not denying that, but maybe with time, they could be. 

“It means you don’t want me,” Danny says gently. “You want Scott and Stiles.”

Jackson just looks at him, stunned to silence. The thought had never even crossed his mind. Sure, after everything that’s happened, they’re in a good place now. They’re pack, and by extension, friends. Jackson studies with Stilinski after school sometimes, he goes for runs with McCall when he can’t sleep. He plays video games with both of them most Friday nights, content to be in their company rather than at some party with people he couldn’t care less about. But that doesn’t mean…

“I’m...no, I don’t,” he manages eventually, but it’s half-hearted at best. Danny watches as it dawns on him and smiles sympathetically. 

“Sorry, dude, but it’s about time you figured it out,” he says with a shrug. “For what it’s worth, though, I think you should go for it.”

Jackson scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Don’t be an idiot. Why they hell would either of them want me when they already have each other?”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Mr. ‘I’m Everyone’s Type,’” Danny teases him playfully, nudging him with his elbow. “Scott and Stiles are cool, I don’t think they’d be opposed to the idea. They’d consider it, at least, if you asked them.”

He says he’ll think about it just to get Danny off his back, but he firmly resolves to take a page from Stilinski’s book and bury the feelings until eventually, hopefully, they go away. 

 

The problem with that, though, is that once he realizes how he feels, it’s impossible to ignore it. He’s very painfully aware of the way he wants to thank Scott with a kiss when he brings him coffee in the morning exactly the way Jackson likes it, or how he wishes Stiles would run his ridiculous fingers through his hair as they both doze off in the middle of their economics homework, and maybe wake him up with those fingers somewhere else. He’s most certainly incapable of overlooking the way he feels when Stiles tackles him hard during practice, smirking down at him, before Scott appears at his side and offers Jackson a hand to help him up. It sends a shiver down Jackson’s spine as he realizes that’s something he’d very much be into: Stiles getting rough with him, doing whatever he wants to make Jackson come completely undone, and then Scott putting him back together again. 

 

The three of them are watching a movie on Scott’s couch when Stiles turns and kisses Scott. It starts out innocent, but then they get wrapped up in each other and it turns heated. Scott parts his lips so Stiles can lick into his mouth hungrily, both of them letting out soft, satisfied hums.

It’s not the first time this has happened, but in the past, Jackson has just politely ignored them, busying himself with scrolling through his phone until they remembered they weren’t alone. Now, though, he can’t look away. His breath hitches, pulse racing.

Scott, even though he’s in the middle of making out with his boyfriend, picks up on it and pulls away from Stiles to look over at Jackson in concern. He would be touched if he wasn’t too busy being mortified. 

“You okay?” he asks, adorably oblivious as usual, and Jackson flushes red. 

Stiles, on the other hand, takes one look in his direction and sees right through him. He’s always been good at that. 

“He’s fine, baby,” Stiles says, grinning wickedly as he climbs into Scott’s lap, never breaking eye contact with Jackson. “I think he just likes what he sees, don’t you, Jacks?”

He turns his gaze to Scott then, and they have one of their silent conversations. Jackson squirms uncomfortably under their scrutiny and almost gets up and leaves, paranoid they’re making fun of him. 

But then Scott reaches for him, taking his hand and pulling him closer to them. He laces their fingers together, keeping Jackson where he is, and goes back to kissing Stiles. 

Stiles responds enthusiastically, clearly putting on a show for Jackson’s sake, but it’s hot as hell anyway. He moans into Scott’s mouth and grinds down against him, and they both groan at the pressure. 

Stiles takes the opportunity to shift his attention to Scott’s neck, sucking relentlessly at his throat as Scott gasps and writhes beneath him. His eyes flash red, and Jackson watches in fascination as the dark bruises on his skin remain intact rather than fading away. 

“I taught myself to keep from healing,” Scott tells him when he notices Jackson staring. “Stiles loves marking me up.”

“Fuck yeah I do,” Stiles says, nipping at Scott’s shoulder. “So fucking hot, love making the big, bad alpha submit to me like a good little slut.”

Jackson can’t suppress the whine he lets slip at that, because _fuck_. 

“I bet you’d be so good for me, too, wouldn’t you, Jacks?” Stiles continues, and Jackson nods easily.

Scott leans in, then, and kisses Jackson gently. “Do you wanna come upstairs with us, Jackson?” he mumbles against his lips. 

Jackson exhales shakily and says “God, yeah, please,” hating how wrecked he already sounds. He’s so hard it hurts. 

He follows them up the stairs, taking them two at a time as he buzzes in anticipation. As soon as they’re in Scott’s room, Stiles shoves Jackson against the wall and kisses him hard, and he forgets how to form a coherent thought. 

“Tell us how you want us,” Scott says as Stiles slides a hand up his shirt, fingers finding a nipple and pinching. 

Jackson gasps, arching toward Stiles. He has no idea how to answer that. It’s all too much, Stiles’ tongue down his throat and his hands all over him, while Scott’s fingers are in his hair, pushing him toward Stiles in encouragement. He doesn’t know what he wants, just knows he _wants_. 

Stiles pulls away from his lips with an obscene smack. “I think I know what he wants,” he declares, pressing a trail of kisses along Jackson’s jaw. It’s surprisingly gentle; something he’d expect from Scott, maybe, but not Stiles. 

He and Scott both look at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. 

“I think he wants us to help him get out of his own head. For us to make all the decisions so he doesn’t have to think about it, while he just lays back and takes it, lets us use him. Think he wants me to push him around a little and show him that it’s okay, he doesn’t have to be in charge all the time. Am I close, babe?” 

It takes Jackson a minute to realize Stiles is actually asking him. Terms of endearment are usually reserved just for Scott, _babe_ and _baby_ especially, and something in Jackson feels warm at the fact that he’s extended it to him as well, at least for the moment. 

All he can do is nod, because it overwhelms him, honestly, how Stiles understands him so completely, knows exactly what Jackson’s craving when he only just figured it out himself. 

“We need to hear you say it, Jacks,” Scott says, and they both lean in and give him mirroring kisses, one on each cheek. It’s so soft, and he realizes then that they actually care. This isn’t just about a night of fun and them having their way with Jackson. They want to make sure he’s comfortable, want him to enjoy it just as much as they do. 

“Yeah,” Jackson says firmly, nodding. “Yes to everything you just said, please, I want all of it.” 

“Mm, already saying please and everything. Such a good boy,” Stiles praises, and it sends a shiver through Jackson’s entire body. 

“Yeah, usually Stiles acts like a brat and gives me attitude until I spank him.” 

“Well, in that case, fuck you,” Jackson shoots back, finally feeling a little more brave. 

Stiles grins and puts a hand on his chest like he’s proud of him. “A guy after my own heart. We got ourselves a good one, Scotty.” 

Scott hums in agreement, chasing Stiles’ lips with his own. They get a little distracted exchanging smiles and lazy kisses as they undress each other. Jackson almost feels like he’s seeing something he shouldn’t be, like he’s intruding on a tender moment meant for just the two of them. 

But then they turn and do the same to Jackson, murmuring about how gorgeous he is as they take his clothes off. He’s never felt so cherished and appreciated during sex and they haven’t even done anything yet. 

“You guys gonna sweet talk me some more, or are you gonna punish me for talking back?” Jackson asks, raising an eyebrow at them in challenge. Now that he knows it’s on the table, he needs it, and he’s not ashamed to admit it. He trusts Scott and Stiles, though he’s not sure when exactly that happened. 

“Get on the bed, hands and knees. Now,” Scott says lowly. He’s using his alpha voice, and fuck if that isn’t the hottest thing Jackson’s ever heard in his goddamn life. He’s quick to obey, making a show of shaking his ass for them as he goes. 

“God, look at that ass. It’s as perfect as we always imagined,” Stiles says appreciatively. 

Jackson’s so preoccupied processing the fact that they fantasize about him together, frequently, by the sounds of it, that Scott’s first spank is a complete surprise. The sound of the smack fills the room, and the sting of skin meeting skin is perfect. 

“Fuck, Scott,” Jackson breathes, which earns him an abrupt moan from Scott. 

“Shit, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call me Scott before,” he says as he hits Jackson again, a little harder this time. “Why is that so hot?”

He continues like that for awhile, swatting Jackson’s ass while Stiles watches, stroking himself earnestly. Jackson’s skin tingles under his fingers, a pleasant burn, but it’s still not quite enough.

“Harder,” Jackson pleads, and he feels Scott hesitate. 

“Scotty tries his hardest, god bless him, but he’s a big softy at heart. He hates the idea of really hurting anyone, even if it’s what they want,” Stiles interjects, chuckling fondly as he comes closer. “Here, baby, let me.”

Scott gives him a peck on the lips and then steps aside, allowing Stiles to take his place. He braces himself with a hand on Jackson’s hip.

Stiles doesn’t hold back. He spanks Jackson with conviction, every blow sending a surge of painful pleasure through his entire body. Scott stops him every so often so he can soothe Jackson’s aching skin with his lips and his tongue. It’s perfect, exactly what Jackson needs; his ass is red and raw, his cock leaking onto Scott’s sheets. 

“God, Jacks, so fucking _good_ for us,” Stiles groans. He takes his dick back in his hand and guides it to Jackson’s ass, teasing it between his cheeks just barely. Jackson whines helplessly and pushes back in search of more.

“I wanna fuck your ass while Scott fucks your mouth,” he continues, and Jackson swears his heart stops and his brain short-circuits. “Want to fill you up with our come at both ends.” 

“Please,” Jackson says, the only word left in his mind right now. “Fuck, please.”

“Scott, baby, you wanna open him up for me?” Stiles asks sweetly.

“Hell yeah,” Scott agrees, and he feels the bed dip as Scott joins him on it and spreads Jackson’s cheeks.

He’s expecting the usual lube and a finger, but what he gets instead is Scott’s tongue lapping at his hole. Jackson whimpers, overwhelmed by the wet heat. No one’s ever rimmed him before, but he’d be willing to bet money that Scott is really fucking good at it, maybe even the best. He’s just the right amount of sloppy and incredibly enthusiastic, licking Jackson’s ass like he can’t get enough of it. Jackson’s amazed he’s still managing to breathe with his nose buried so deep between his cheeks. 

Stiles is mumbling praise at both of them, licking his lips as he watches Jackson squirm under Scott’s tongue. He wants to kiss him, to feel both of their mouths on him at the same time, but he doesn’t know how to ask for it. 

“Stiles,” he tries anyway, and somehow, Stiles understands instantly. He climbs onto the bed and leans in to press their lips together. Jackson melts into it, letting him swallow all the desperate, needy little noises Scott’s drawing out of him. 

When Scott slides a finger inside him alongside his tongue, Jackson gasps and pulls Stiles’ bottom lip between his teeth, biting until he can taste blood. Stiles tugs on his hair and moans in encouragement. 

Eventually Scott has to back off with his mouth in favor of adding more fingers. He takes the opportunity to tell Jackson how perfect he is, kissing his thighs between sentences. By the time he’s three fingers deep, Jackson is a wreck, moaning and trembling and already so close to coming. 

“He’s ready for you, babe,” Scott says once he’s finally satisfied. When they all shift so they can reposition, Scott kisses him, and Jackson can taste himself on his tongue. 

They end up with Scott sitting at the head of the bed, leaning against the headboard, with Jackson between his spread legs, ass in the air for Stiles behind him. 

“Condom?” Stiles asks, and Jackson shakes his head. He knows Scott can’t catch anything, and neither can he, and Stiles has never been with anyone else. 

“No, just you,” he says, which earns him an appreciative hum from Stiles. 

Jackson hears him lubing his dick up generously, and then Scott’s leaning forward to kiss him as Stiles slowly pushes inside. 

“Holy _shit_ , Jackson, _fuck_ ,” Stiles moans once he bottoms out, pausing for a moment to give them both a chance to adjust. 

“This is a dream come true for him, you know,” Scott tells him, pressing their foreheads together. The eye contact is overwhelming, like Scott’s looking directly into his soul. “He’s wanted to fuck you since before he even wanted to fuck me. I was jealous at first, but then I realized that was hypocritical because I wanted you too.”

Somehow Jackson finds that not only hot, but also kind of sweet, and he can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. Scott smiles back at him, soft and fond in a way that he usually only looks at Stiles. 

“You both better fuck me like you mean it, then,” Jackson says once the moment’s passed. He looks over his shoulder to wink at Stiles, then turns back and does the same to Scott before taking him into his mouth. 

Scott sucks in a breath, hand immediately finding its way into Jackson’s hair. He’s tentative at first, but after some encouraging moans and a flash of blue eyes from Jackson, he lets himself go and thrusts into Jackson’s mouth, mumbling a subconscious stream of filth all the while. Jackson didn’t know he had it in him; he’s clearly not as confident in his dirty talk as Stiles, but the shy effortlessness is just as sexy and goes straight to Jackson’s dick. 

Stiles is fucking into him with abandon, every slam of his hips sending Scott’s cock further down his throat, making the most intoxicating little satisfied noises like everything he’s ever needed is right here in this bed. Jackson knows this is going to be over embarrassingly fast, but he’s powerless to stop it. He’s never felt this good before, so completely, perfectly full. 

“Scott,” Stiles whines suddenly, sounding desperate as all hell. 

“Not yet, baby,” Scott answers. Jackson looks up at him through his eyelashes and sees him shake his head, and he realizes Stiles is waiting for his permission to come. 

God, that’s so fucking hot. 

Scott holds out as long as he possibly can, and it’s the most excruciating, amazing few minutes of Jackson’s life. He does what he can to push them over the edge, clenching around Stiles and sucking Scott hard, because he can’t keep this up much longer; he’s about to explode. 

And then, finally, Scott nods at Stiles and says “Now,” and they come in perfect synchronization. They both cry out, and then Stiles reaches for Jackson’s cock and he’s spilling into his hand with just one touch, and he swears he comes so hard he sees stars. 

When they come back down, they’re all panting. Scott pulls Jackson in for a kiss, chasing the taste of himself, while Stiles slides a finger inside him, trying to keep all his come there, and licks the excess from Jackson’s thighs. 

Jackson hums happily, feeling unapologetically content for the first time in...god, he doesn’t even know how long. Stiles kisses Scott lazily over his shoulder, and then they all collapse on the bed. 

“Should I go?” Jackson asks, unsure. They didn’t exactly stop to discuss things before they dove into this, and he doesn’t know if this was just a night of fun or something more. 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Stiles says, snaking an arm around Jackson’s waist in an attempt to keep him where he is. 

Scott snorts and nudges Stiles with his foot. “You can if you want, but we’d like it if you stayed. We can take a shower, maybe order a pizza and finish that movie we started earlier,” he offers, smiling at Jackson. 

Jackson smiles back and kisses Scott softly because he can. At least, he thinks he can. 

“Are we, like...dating now? All of us?” 

“That’s up to you, babe. Will your reputation survive dating us?” Stiles teases, grinning. 

“Please. My reputation is a lot stronger than you losers,” Jackson says, smirking when they both roll their eyes at him. 

The truth is, though, he doesn’t care. For the first time in his life, he doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks. He has what he wants, and he’s happy, and that’s all he cares about.


End file.
